


Icarus

by Tsume_Yuki



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dimension Travel, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Sirius Needs a Hug, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-13 08:31:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4515042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsume_Yuki/pseuds/Tsume_Yuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe the Blacks should have just gone the full mile and named their children after the Gods, because honestly, this plotline would fit right in with the legends of old. </p><p>In which 15 year old Sirius find himself tripping twenty years into the future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Flight of Chance

****

 

"Oh. Now this is very strange."

 

Staring down at the younger version of himself (the version of himself that couldn't be any older than fifteen perhaps having just finished his fourth year), Sirius Orion Black grumpily admits it's time to go stop pretending everything's okay and that he needs Dumbledore.

 

But first, he needs the firewhiskey and that 'big gulp' cup his father had tired to pretend wasn't his coping mechanising for being lumped with Walburga Black for a wife.

 

* * *

 

 

"Well gentlemen, it appeared we are free of our schooling for one much anticipated summer."

Throwing his arms across the shoulders of the closest two Marauders -Peter and Remus- James Potter grins wildly, hair ruffled by the much-beloved summer breeze. The sun is shining, the birds singing, and most importantly of all, exams are over. All is well with the world.

"Yeah, summer, great."

Or, it is for James Potter.

Hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his trousers, Sirius Orion Black is quite unable to stop his frown from deepening. Eyebrows weighing heavily down above his grey eyes, the dark haired male is very much aware of the approaching summer holidays.

For each day that passes, his 'reunion' with his family grows ever closer, and he is dreading it. Dreading going back to facing his mother's screeching, his father's stern disapproval and Regulus' blatant dismissals. He doesn't want that.

Why couldn't Hogwarts just last forever? No summer holidays, just him, the rest of the Marauders, and endless opportunities.

"Shit, Padfoot! Sorry, I-"

"Doesn't matter. I'm gonna go take a walk."

Ducking into the entrance to Hogwarts, Sirius pays no minds to his friends, Remus' soft voice insisting they let him 'go off and think' the last thing to register as he makes with way through the halls.

His shoes tap quietly against the stone floor as he meanders way through the streams of students. Something must give away the fact he most certainly doesn't want to be talking to anyone, because the girls that would have offered him a wink or a smile any other day duck out of his way.

In all honesty, Sirius has no idea where he's going and he knows that in a few days he'll regret storming off and not spending as much time as humanly possible with the Marauders. Especially with the threat of his family fast approaching.

But right now, in this moment, he doesn't care. He just wants to get away. It isn't like there's someone who'll understand his current situation, so there isn't realyl anyone to talk to. 

James, Remus, Peter... their parents loved them. Think the world of them.

Sirius' would probably celebrate if he were struck down by lightning. In fact, they'd probably thank the gods for wiping him from the face of the planet.

No, his family wouldn't care if Sirius disappeared forever, and in all honesty, Sirius would be glad to see the back of them too.

 

 

 

The dark haired boy pauses when a door blooms into existence before him; a simple looking thing with dark wood and carefully carved features.

A new secret passage?

Mood instantly brightening, Sirius takes a quick look around, eager to figure out where his oh so brilliant feet have led him to and any key features nearby, so he might remember where exactly he stands. Thankfully, the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy trying to teach trolls ballet will be a dead giveaway to this location, and once he tells the rest of the Marauders about it, they can figure out how the hell he's managed to summon up a new room (a bloody new room!) to begin with.

Which leaves only one thing to do; time to explore!

Pulling open the door, Sirius eagerly steps inside, then stops upon the sight that greets him. The whole place is packed, filled to the brim with all kinds of glorious shit! Mountains of it, piled up and stretching back as far as the eye can see and beyond. 

Body thrumming with anticipation as he steps into the room, Sirius makes sure to shut the door behind him, wanting to interruptions as he explores this place.

Godric, it looks incredible. There are at least six brooms in sight, and he;s pretty damn sure one of them is a vintage Starskimmer. A mother-fucking Starskimmer. Merlin, they stopped make those in the 1750s! So beautifully vintage. Reg, eat your heart out.

There are gems, necklaces, bracelets; hell, whatever lucky bird he takes out on Valentine's day next year is in for a treat.

Hell, if this is what he suspected it to be, then they're in for an exciting few days. Hogwarts' fabled lost and found. If all this crap has been building up for the past thousand or so years, then there's sure to be all sorts of treasure in here.

Remus'll probably wet himself if- no, when he finds whatever ancient texts are stored in here. Maybe there's some aged cheese for Peter.

Snickering at the thought, Sirius makes his way over to the nearest pile of lost crap, rifling his way through. So much wonderful stuff passes through his hands, he honestly can't decide what he wants to inspect first.

No wait, the glowing blue orb thingy looks promising!

Blue's a safe colour, right? Red means warning, danger, so blue has to mean a'okay, go. Makes perfect sense. 

Fingers coiling around the orb, Sirius only has a second to realize something's wrong (the sharp jolt in his belly, the soup his brain becomes) before he finds himself on the worst portkey journey ever experienced by man.

 

* * *

 

 

"And you say he just appeared?"

Albus Dumbledore sits up to the kitchen table at Grimmauld Place, a frown sitting heavy upon his lips and pulling at his crinkled brow.

Across from him, Sirius Orion Black the Third gives a shallow nod, both of them turning to stare at the teenager currently unconscious on the couch. Sirius had conjured it into existence once he'd finished his first glass of firewhisky, not quite trusting the furniture in the living room to not eat the boy. Whoever he is.

Sirius has a bad feeling.

A bad gut feeling, because this boy looks about Harry's age and his little goddaughter is as close to being a parent as he wanted right now, thank you very much.

He'd feel a little better if this boy literally wasn't his spitting image. He's really close to hyperventilating; hyperventilating sounds like an excellent plan of action right now. 

It doesn't explain why he was in Hogwarts robes though. Sirius needs answers, and he needs answers right now.

"I believe it's best if we get a blood sample and see where our friend falls upon your family tree, Sirius?"

The Azkaban escapee nods.

Yeah, that sounded like a better plan than hyperventilating. 

 

* * *

 

 

When Sirius wakes, it's to a sight he'd been hoping to put off for a few days.

Dear Merlin, had that funny looking orb knocked him out long enough for the rest of the school term to pass by?

Because there's no other reason for him to be staring up at what is most certainly his bedroom ceiling.

New rule, blue's no longer a safe colour. Blue is now officially worse than red. The worst colour. He should have known, he lives in the Hogwarts House made up of red, and a little gold. Red's a good colour, blue is Merlin-damn awful.

With that now settled in his mind, Sirius Black begins shuffling close to the edge of his bed, absentmindedly noting he's still in his Hogwarts robes, the worn fabric soft upon his arms. 

Funny, normally Walburga would've gotten Kreacher to magic his pyjamas onto him. Not that he'd really bothered with them since going into his fourth year at Hogwarts.

Hell, the only reason he doesn't sleep naked is because he shares a room with three other guys, and that'd have been just weird.

Maybe he should try that here, at home? ...On second thoughts, no, terrible idea.

 

 

Glancing around the room, Sirius pauses at the sight of three pictures on the wall he most certainly doesn't recall being there.

They aren't even moving; hadn't Evans saying something about muggle pictures not moving in the slightest? Well, forgive him if he hadn't believed her.

Cautiously nearing the selection of pictures, Sirius barks out a surprised, delighted laugh when he finally take in the occupants of these photos.

Three muggles girls, each one laid out on one of those two wheel contraptions that the muggles ride around on. Not quite cars, but they make the same funny noise, if only louder than the four wheel things (he wants to say automobiles, but all the muggleborns laugh whenever he calls them that, so Sirius bites his tongue. Excuse him for not knowing the correct terminology). He can remember watching the muggle world go past from this very room, listening to the man-made roar and looking down on the street even as Orion grumbles under his breath, with his Merlin be damned mother occasionally venturing to the door in order to hex them out from their funny looking machines.

A lot of them crash, only then another, bigger machine would come with muggle healers. Bonus, this one always came with bright flashing blue lights and an even louder noise accompanying it. More irritating too. Sorta like a summoning charm really; one muggle vehicle crashes, then the second more obnoxious one would appear not long after.

Unfortunately, Walburga seemed to have learnt about that cause and effect, because she stopped hexing them sometime before Sirius' second year. He still hasn't found out what the large ones are called, always slips his mind whenever he;s near someone with the answers (it has nothing to do with wanting to avoid looking ignorant to the world around him. Nothing at all). 

In fact, it's probably because whenever he's near a muggleborn at Hogwarts, there's the Marauders to distract him from thoughts of 'home'. 

Oh Merlin, let them not have found out what'd happened. He'd rather not have to face them knowing that they'd witnessed his defeat by a glowing blue orb.

Merlin, how embarrassing.

Staring at the muggle girls again, a roguish grin breaks out across Sirius' face. He has no idea how they've got here (maybe James had come to visit and left them? Ha, fat chance of that being allowed, thank you, Mother) but he appreciates them none the less. They're certainly the perfect addition to his room. He couldn't have decorated it better himself. 

 

 

Scanning the place, Sirius frowns when he fails to locate his trunk, the trunk that'd stuck with him through four whole years of Hogwarts. Opening the wardrobes doesn't offer him any clothing options either, considering it's full of stuff way too big for him. Like, grown adult clothing that is so not his style. Yuk. 

Grimacing at the very idea, Sirius turns on heel, shedding the robes he'd woken up in to reveal the rumpled white shirt and black trousers beneath.

James had given him this particular outfit, after a graduating seventh year had invented a spell that'd blow a person's robes up above their heads, leaving everything on show. Of course, such a spell had spread like wildfire through the school, though Sirius doesn't doubt for a second that by the time they got back next year, wards against it would be in place.

Running a hand nervously through his thick black hair, the Gryffindor turns on heel yet again, heading for the door and sucking up as much courage as he can possibly fit in his fifteen year old chest.

Merlin, he thought he'd have more time to prepare for this. 

His wand is still in his pocket, and even if he can't legally use it over summer, he also has some splatballs on him. The little pellets are filled to the brim with paint and promise a four foot coverage. Worst comes to worst, he can lob them at Walburga and flee back to the safety of his room.

Making his way down the stairs, Sirius stares at the portrait that now rests in the hallway, covered by curtains.

That's new, and potentially dangerous. Why would either of his parents decide to cover something with curtains? Had some relative passed on while he wasn't looking? A relative Walburga clearly didn't like if this was the case.

So by that logic, he has to like them!

Grinning, Sirius pulls back the curtains with a quick snap of his wrists.

Only to freeze in horror. Because it is certainly no one he would like.

Walburga Black stares back at him in complete surprise for a second before her face transforms into the harshest, most terrifying bout of fury that Sirius has ever been privy to in his whole life.

"As if it wasn't bad enough my filthy son has returned! Stain of dishonour! Filthy blood-traitor! Taint of shame on the house of my fathers! Kreacher! Kreacher!"

Backing up with his eyes rounded in fear, Sirius barely registers the two people racing forwards and forcibly pulling the curtains shut.

His mother is the portrait?! Good Godric, what the hell happened when he touched that orby thing?! Most important of all; is this a good thing, or a bad thing?

Or... just a thing?

Sirius presses his back further into the wall, watching the two males before him finally wretch the curtains shut with a significant amount of force. Far more effort than it should have taken, but he wouldn't put anything past Walburga, portrait form or not.

Blinking, Sirius eyes the two males, brain nagging and crooning that he should be able to recognise them, but it's utterly failing to submit an answer. Orion's old associates?

"Is she dead?" The words tumble out of his mouth without any real thought about it and the two males share a look, the one with dark hair grinning savagely.

"Yep."

"Oh."

Well, it certainly solves all of his Walburga related problems. But she had been the woman that birthed him, even if she hadn't really been his mother.

Frowning, Sirius looks between the two men, eyeing the male with familiar grey eyes the second that particular feature registers.

"Are you a Black?"

He barks a laugh, a laugh that's stomach-sinking in its familiarity.

"Come on kind. Professor Dumbledore wants to talk to you."

Dumbledore's here? At Grimmauld Place? But Orion had sworn to never let the man in over his dead body.

Frown deepening, Sirius trails after the two, following them into the kitchen.

 

 

 

As it turns out, Dumbledore is in Grimmauld Place over Orion's dead body.

And Walburga's dead body.

Oh, and Regulus' too.

Because apparently he's in the future.

An alternate future.

 

 

 

After explaining finding the strange room, the glowing orb of doom, and then waking up here, Sirius sits back and listens as the older Black -the old him! Bloody hell that's strange- sheepishly admit he'd found the same strange room, but he'd smashed the orb by dropping something or other on top of it before he'd been able to touch it.

Which meant this is an alternate future where he'd never touched the orb but that also means there's no way home, even though Dumbledore seems a good enough man to promise looking for such a thing. Even if Sirius' pretty damn certain the man doesn't have a damn clue; he can see that look in his eyes.

As if things aren't bad enough, Black -the older him- explained that things aren't good, not in the slightest (so much for the future being bright). The reason James isn't here to welcome him to this strange new world is because he's not around anymore. His best friend had got the girl, and died not four years after.

James is dead.

 Because of Peter.

Or so the older Black had said. He'd sworn under oath. Sworn that it was Peter and Remus, sitting beside him with green eyes instead of blue like home, had nodded along.

"No! I don't believe it! You're lying! Peter would never!"

"You little shit, he would, he did! I-"

Black cut off when Remus slaps a hand over his mouth, his big, green (wrongwrongwrong) pitying eyes turning on him.

"Maybe in your world Sirius, but here, he did."

That he'll accept. His Peter, his friend Peter, would never rat him out.

Never.

 

Shaking his head, Sirius stems the tears rolling down his cheeks, wiping them messily on the cuffs of his shirtsleeves and refusing to look either of the two men in the eye.

"So what happens now."

He won't believe what they say about Peter, and he won't rely on Dumbledore to look for a way home. The Black library's full of lots of stupid stuff. Maybe he'll be able to find the orb of doom in one of those books? Sure he's never looked in them before, but he's never had a cause before. Necessity make progress, or something like that. 

"Professor Dumbledore went to talk to one of Sirius' old schoolmates."

"Adeline Pyrites."

"Yeah her," Remus frowns, running a hand down the side of his face much like the Remus from his world does done. Sirius blinks, casting his mind back as he tries to remember every face at Hogwarts. Pyrites sounds familiar, but he just can't place her.

"Professor Dumbledore explained everything to her, and she'd agreed to pretend to be your mother… Seeing as, well, she's got dragon pox. They don't expect her to make it to July."

Oh.

Swallowing, Sirius looks away from the older version of himself, older version of his friend, and across the room. They're building him an identity here.

But he doesn't want an identity here, he wants to go home. He doesn't belong here. And until he's found irrefutable proof that it's impossible, Sirius' going to keep looking for a way home.

Because this world, a world without James and with Peter betraying them, it's awful.

"And Sirius here is going to be your unknowing father."

"WHAT?!"

"WHAT?!"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 28.01.18


	2. Ruffled Feathers

 

 

Laid face down on his bed, Sirius bunched the covers of the pillowcase between his fingers and tried desperately not to cry. He'd been stuck here, at this Grimmauld Place, for three days. At this Parallel Grimmauld Place.

It wasn't so bad here, the company was good, the humour excellent, but Sirius didn't have much of a taste for that right now. The fourth book he'd raced through on parallel dimensions and time travel had said the same as the first three; it was a one way trip. One way.

Unless Professor Dumbledore did the impossible, it was looking more and more like he wouldn't be going anyway. That he was stuck here.

Forever. No, no.

He'd have to look in the secret room in Hogwarts, it'd have the answers. And Dumbledore had said he'd be able to enrol as a student.

So, everything would be fixed when he started school again.

 

 

 

Nodding fiercely to himself, Sirius sucked in a deep breath in an attempt to get his breathing under control, and got a mouthful of cotton instead.

Spluttering, the Gryffindor shot back, hands clawing at the mattress as he tried to stabilise himself. A deep, hoarse chuckle from inside his room had Sirius swinging around to stare at the source.

Black, his older self, was staring down at him with a sort of lost longing in his eyes and a tired smile on his face. He looked horrible, but Sirius suppose Azkaban did that to a person.

Shuddering at the thought, the fifteen year old lowered himself into a comfortable position at the head of the bed, leaving Black to the foot.

"What do you want?"

For the past three days, they'd pretty much left him alone. Lupin -he struggled, to call the man Remus when just a handful of days ago Remus had been a bright and cheerful teenager, like him- had always let him know when food was ready, but mainly, the duo had been waging war against the rest of the house.

Trying to clean it.

Sirius was personally of the opinion it'd never be clean. Not unless they knocked it down and built the place from scratch.

"Remus thought I should let you know that the Weasleys will be getting here today, they're a part of the Order and Harry's friends."

The Order of the Phoenix. It was only in whispers that he'd heard of it back at school, a secret organisation that was opposed to the Death Eaters. Considering that the Death Eaters had only started attacking people when his fourth year had begun, Sirius actually hadn't heard much more than rumours.

Even now, Lupin was under the impression that it was best Sirius not know anything that was going on, and as such, Sirius did not know anything that was going on.

Because Black, the traitor, had rolled over and shown his belly to the werewolf. Leaving Sirius almost completely in the dark.

"Dumbledore says it's best if we keep the fact you're really me between the four of us."

Frowning, Sirius ran a hand through his hair and grimaced at the state of it. Yeah, he needed to take a shower. Maybe doing nothing but reading for three days had been a bad idea.

"Fine. But I don't have to like them." He wouldn't make friends with them. No one was going to replace James and Remus and Peter. He didn't need to make new friends because he was going back to his old ones.

Maybe if he believed in those words enough it's actually come true.

Grimacing, Sirius rolled out of bed, snatching up the only clothes that fit him. Some of Regulus' old stuff, that Black had actually had to wrestle away from Kreacher. As amusing as the sight had been, it didn't make him feel any better that he was wearing his brother's hand-me-downs. His dead brother's hand-me-downs.

Regardless of the fact Kreacher had kept the stuff so well cared for it looked new, it still made Sirius' skin itch.

Regulus had been a thirteen year old brat when he'd left, just finishing off his second year.

Now he was dead.

Clenching his fingers tighter into the fabric, Sirius stormed down the hallway, kicking open the door to the bathroom and slamming it shut behind him.

It wasn't until he'd stumbled to the shower, leaving a breadcrumb trail of clothing behind him, that the first tear fell.

Hastily twisting at the dials, Sirius hissed as the cold water shattered against his skin, eyes clenching shut until the pipes began to heat up. The water raced through his hair, the dark strands sticking to his forehead, cheeks and the nape of his neck as he pressed his face closer to the tiles, the cool ceramic hard against his skin. His fingers scrambled for purchase, body sliding down the side of the wall until he was curled up at the bottom of the shower basin, water pounding against the crest of his skull and grey eyes watching the liquid swirl about towards the drain.

His head hurt.

He wanted to go home.

To Hogwarts, his Hogwarts. With its stone walls and with the red and golds of Gryffindor. He wanted to watch the fire reflect in James' glasses, wanted to see Evans turn that fascinating shade of red whenever they were just getting started on teasing Snape. He wanted to watch Slughorn bumble and pander to all those pureblood, watch McGonagall rip into Malfoy for one transition or another. He wanted to watch Regulus walk by him without even so much as a second glance.

 

He wanted to go home.

 

 

 

It took Sirius thirty minutes to summon up the willpower to crawl back out of the shower, then another three to jump back in and achieve what he'd been aiming for the first time; washing his hair.

Now, walking out of the shower and snapping his hair up with one of those 'bobble' things he'd seen the girls use, Sirius ruffled the stubby little ponytail that sat atop his head, keeping the collar of his shirt dry. He really needed to go out and buy his own clothes, because as nice as Regulus' stuff was, it was not loungewear. Well, not for him anyway. It might be a Slytherin's loungewear, but it wasn't his kind of thing.

Hell, he was lucky there was anything in red at all in his little brother's wardrobe. Even if it was blood red instead of the preferred shade of Gryffindor.

He'd pulled on a pair of socks, but decided to forgo the idea of shoes. Walburga had never let him run around the house in just his socks, and now that she wasn't here to say otherwise, Sirius was going to do as he damn well pleased.

 

Racing down the steps, Sirius jumped down to the hallway floor, missing the last three stairs, and landed with a satisfying thump.

He froze in place though, when he remembered just what was in the hallway that would wake up should anyone make too much noise. Thankfully, his muffled feet seemed to not fall into this category, as Walburga's portrait remained shut, the moth-eaten curtains closed and thankfully, still enough to keep her ugly mug covered.

Scratching lazily at the side of his face, Sirius made his way into the dining room, pushing open the door and eyeing the two male sat inside as they went about eating their sandwiches.

As none of them were stupid enough to let Kreacher cook -poison laid at the end of that road, Sirius was sure of it- then they'd ended up stuck with whatever the two before he could rustle up, because even sandwich making was beyond Sirius. Which meant he'd eaten nothing but sandwiches for the past three days, excluding that one meal where Lupin had returned triumphantly with tinned soup from a muggle shop.

That'd been nice, not as good as the stuff Kreacher had cooked back in his old world, but sure beat sandwiches.

"Ah, good morning Sirius. Padfoot and I were just discussing where we're gonna put the Weasleys-"

"Not with me." His room was his own. He was not sharing it with people he didn't know. Hell, he'd barely share it with people he did know, because they were both sat up to this table and they were older than him. That and he knew exactly what Marauders did to the first person to fall asleep at a sleepover.

No way, no how.

Lupin blinked, green eyes that were so very wrong, wide and startled before slowly nodding his head.

"Okay, that's fine. There's enough rooms for them to sleep elsewhere, even if they have to bunk up."

Across from him, Black snorted into his coffee, eyes narrowed and staring down into the liquid as dark as his name.

"Yeah, they're probably used to it."

"Sirius-"

"No, I was talking about the dorms at Hogwarts! And I thought you said we should call me Padfoot, so we don't get mixed up with little me." Black waved a casual hand towards Sirius, who straightened at the odd nickname.

"Padfoot?"

"Completed the Animagus transformation, and we all threw out names. James tried Grimm, but Padfoot here was determined to not have something so normal."

Padfoot and Grimm. Both names sounded okay, but Sirius could see why he'd have gone for the first option.

Option one was a name the Black family would never have given to a mutt, never mind an Animagus form. Whereas, if it wasn't for the star thing, Sirius could honestly see Walburga going for a name like Grimm. Grimm Black.

Snorting lowly to himself, Sirius plucked up the sandwich, making a disgusted face and began pulling out the pickles.

"What, you don't like pickles?" Black stared at him with a funny frown on his face before looking down at his own sandwich, as if he couldn’t imagine his food without them.

"No, bloody awful things."

"Looks like that's another difference. Sirius, maybe when you complete the Animagus transformation you could go with the name Grimm?"

He was about to object, but then paused. Because while there was a fifty-fifty chance Walburga might have liked the name, James certainly did. He'd been the one to suggest it.

So, in homage to his friends, he would carry that name until he returned.

"Fine, but you've got to help me finish it up before summer."

Black cracked a smile at that, winking and no longer looking as tired as he had before.

There, at least Sirius wouldn't be wasting his time here.

 

 

 

The Weasley's arrived by floo, loud and vibrant.

Sirius had been crouched at the very top of the stairs, staring down at them from around the worn wood of the banister. His hands had been curled around the individual bars, the point where they grooved out before smoothing back down again, the perfect width to fit within his palms. They were still smooth to the touch, even if they'd been left to the mercy of whatever darkness was stalking the house for the past ten years.

Hell, it still might be there, if the smarter ones had managed to escape Black and Lupin's mad cleaning spree. It wouldn't surprise him if that'd happened in all honest.

Grip tightening in a sporadic manner, Sirius pressed his forehead against the wood, breathing in the scents of his childhood home. Dust being the most prevailing, with that dusky scent that'd haunted most of his short life. His sock clad feet slide across the floorboard with an enviable ease his shoes would have never managed, what he wouldn’t have given to test out his socked feet on the wood back when it was highly polished. Now that would have been fun.

Looking over the edge as the noise came closer to the hallway, Sirius found himself smirking viciously when the noise awoke the sleeping dragon.

It was nice to see Walburga's rage directed at someone other than himself, even if it was only because these idiots had thought to be too noisy walking through the hallway. He could hear Black swear, no doubt getting ready to do battle with the curtains, when Lupin's voice echoed up the stairwell.

"Sirius! Come down here and meet the Weasleys!"

That was right, their cover story.

Snarling under his breath, Sirius got to his feet, adjusting the collar of his shirt before popping another button, leaving the two uppermost ones loose and giving him room to breathe.

He shouldn't need a cover story, shouldn't need to be introduced to these people. He needed them to find him a way back home, not get distracted with whatever it was they were doing.

Sirius had stopped paying attention really when he'd learnt they couldn’t focus all their efforts on his significantly big problem.

Hands stuffed into the pockets of his trousers, Sirius slouched forwards slightly before on second thoughts, pulling his hair free of its measly ponytail. It'd dried into its usual mess of half curls, framing his face wonderfully and best of all, with little to no effort on his part. He could still here James bitching about it as he would wrestle a brush through his own hair.

Patting the top part down, just to make sure nothing had fallen on the wrong side and was stupidly standing up, Sirius took another jump from the stairs to the hallway floor, sticking the landing perfectly.

The barrage of people had moved into the kitchen, which still stood as the only room in the house that was without a doubt, hundred percent free of dark objects and curses. Dumbledore approved even.

Not even the landing was done, what with the grandfather clock that threw out gears like ninja stars if you didn't walk up to it with the right patter of footsteps.

In fact, so used to this item, both himself and Black and walked right by it without a problem, only for Lupin to squeal as he was nearly skewered.

They may have laughed. A tiny bit.

Okay, a lot.

Did it matter? None of them had figured out how to stop it yet and the clock was stuck to the floor in the same way Walburga's portrait was attached to the wall. It would not be moved.

 

Sneaking past said portrait, Sirius strolled into the kitchen with as much cool charm as he could muster, as if strangers weren't invading the parallel version of his home twenty years in the future. All was well with the world.

Conversation at the table stopped instantly, face turning around to full out gawk at him. He counted four ginger haired children, two close to his own age, and then a pair of twins with surprise on their face and mischief in their eyes. Fellow pranksters? Sirius would know that look anywhere.

"Oh yeah, my son," Black mused with a completely fake causal grin, one that suggested he was speaking of the weather outside being wonderful instead of the blatant downpour it actually was, "Sirius Regulus Black. The fourth."

"Yes, because you just couldn't miss 'the fourth' out," Lupin grumbled from beside Black, but he too was smiling. Softer than what Remus would have done, clearly far more tired than he'd ever allow his friend to become, but smiling all the same.

"A Mini-Marauder!" The twin boys threw their arms out and were on him before Sirius could decide which one to start fending off first. Two pairs of arms wrapped around him and lifting him off his feet, Sirius almost squawking in surprise at the sudden motion.

As the released him, Sirius stepped back and was unsurprised to see his skin had now taken on the texture of scales instead of the human skin he was so used to seeing.

The Weasley twins however, had not gotten out of that scot free. Sirius had kept his splatballs on him at all times, and now the both of them were sporting two brilliant pink patches that covered almost all of their fronts.

"Look Fred, an heir!"

"Say it isn't so Mr Padfoot!"

They both whirled around to look at Black and Sirius grimaced, flexing his scaly fingers towards Lupin's direction in a clear silent plea for help. So maybe the twins weren't too bad, pranksters that they were. Which was even more reason for him to not let them into his room.

In fact, he was rigging that door tonight.

"Oh you boys, honestly!"

A plump witch, with fiery red hair pushed her way between the two boys and Sirius once again found himself caged in by another's arms, only this time, it was in a crushing embrace.

"It's very nice to meet you dear, I see you father hasn't been feeding you right, much too skinny, I'll get started on dinner right away. Call me Molly."

Jaw clenching, Sirius stepped back and out of Molly Weasley's arms, fists tightening. He could feel his skin whine under the pressure of his blunt fingernails, threatening to puncture.

Instead, he twisted about on his feet, storming out of the room.

Black wasn't his father, he'd been getting fed just fine at Hogwarts until he'd been dropped here. He didn't need the Weasley family storming into the house that'd never quite been his home, taking over everything as they were. He didn't want whatever food she'd make or whatever sandwiches Lupin could scrap together, he wanted house-elf cooked food.

He wanted to see James and Remus and Peter on the last day of school and get a promise from them to keep writing him.

He wanted to get into a screaming match with Walburga about going into muggle London.

He didn't want any dinner cooked by Molly Weasley and he didn't want Regulus' old clothes and he didn't want Black and Lupin's pitying gaze.

 

Slamming the door to his bedroom shut as loud as he possibly could and paying no mind to the portraits that started screaming, Sirius pulled his wand out of his pocket and went about warding it as best he could, from pranks to shock wards, damn the ministry ban. It's not like his bloody wand would be registered with them here.

Throwing himself onto the bed, Sirius pressed his face into the pillow and screamed into it for all it was worth.

 

 

 

He wanted to go home. 


	3. Bird Brains

He could hear Lupin talking to them. He hadn't wanted to move, but by the time six o'clock came around something had started to smell mouth-wateringly good, sending Sirius' nose into a twitching frenzy.

Cautiously, he'd shuffled out onto the landing again, peering down around the banister to see if anyone was planning on coming up to get him. Walburga would have stormed after him right away, determined to get the last word in their argument, whereas Regulus would have never let him run off without giving him that superior smirk to let him know that, no matter how much Sirius thought he'd won that argument, he really hadn't. Even Orion would have yelled after him, something about no Black Heir should be arguing with his Lord, or something equally as stupid.

But no, no one had come after him here and it was unsettling.

Lupin's low voice, amplified by a quick spell -hey, he'd already overstepped the boundaries and no owl had come in the past few hours, he was safe- quietly told the recent additions to Grimmauld that Sirius was upset over losing his mother. That he was upset his father was innocent and he'd had so much of his life stole from him.

Snorting, Sirius kicked at the nearest object, then swore when the grandfather clock spat out it's geared weapons in retaliation. His big toe hurt now too. Socks weren't so cool after all.

Clenching his fists, the teenager began making his way down the stairs, frowning the whole way as he went. It smelt even better the closer he got the kitchen, nothing like Kreacher's precise flavours. More like, the warm scent of home that all Hogwarts food seemed to just emit.

 

Stealthily wiping the droll from the corner of his mouth, Sirius hesitated for a second, before slowly pushing open the door to the kitchen.

Thankfully, the room was only occupied by Molly Weasley, and for a second, Sirius couldn't even begin to understand why no one else had been summoned by that orgasmic scent. It wasn't until he focused, searched the background noises that his brain wasn't really registering, that he realized all the other kids had to have been pulled into room cleaning duty with Black and Lupin.

"Oh! Sirius!"

Jumping slightly at the sharp surprise in Mrs Weasley's voice, Sirius offered her his best grin, as he had done every time he'd met up with Mrs Potter.

"Afternoon Mrs Weasley. I'm sorry about early, things are still a bit rocky I guess."

Rubbing sheepishly at the back of his head, Sirius tried not to preen too much when her eyes instantly softened. Really, middleaged mothers were just too easy to win over. One troublesome child and then they were tripping over themselves when a polite boy made an appearance.

"It's quite alright, Sirius. Would you be a dear and set out the plates please?" She gestured to the stack of crockery piled up beside her and Sirius pulled a face.

"Better not use those ones, they'll disintegrate the food that's put on them. I'll get the right ones."

Making his way over to the relevant cupboards, Sirius began pulling out all the respective items, not quite able to stop himself from pulling out two of the goblets he'd personally charmed as a second year to spit the drink up at the drinker. He'd have to make sure those ones went to the twins.

Or Black and Lupin. What was the chance his older self had forgotten about them now?

Heh, might as well try.

Dropping the goblets onto the table, Sirius stood back and checked over the arrangement, remembering at the last second not to use the silverware because, duh, Lupin. The gold was more flashy, but it's not like he really had a choice, did he? Because apparently Blacks only ate with silver or gold, no inbetween.

Talk about being born with a silver spoon.

Snorting, Sirius finished laying the last fork down and stood back, inspecting the table as best he could. He didn't mind this, back when he'd crash at the Potters for a bit, he'd set the table with James, who knew some kind of fancy folding trick to do with the napkins. He'd never bothered learning it, and now he really wished he had done. It looked incomplete without in.

Lips pursed, Sirius quickly checked over his shoulder for Mrs Weasley, and when he registered that she was far more focused on the roast than on him, a quick flick of his wand sorted the napkin problem. Folded the same way James had managed, like little black swans.

Smirking, the teen slipped his wand back into his pocket, twisting on heels and making his way back over to Mrs Weasley.

"I'm done Mrs Weasley, anything else I can help you with?"

The plump woman glanced at him over his shoulder, a look of such tender warmth in her eyes that Sirius froze in place for a second. Mrs Potter had looked at him the same way every time he offered to help out.

"You are a lovely boy Sirius, don't ever let anyone tell you that you aren't. It'd be a help if you put the veg on the table."

Heart in his throat, Sirius nodded shallowly, plucking up to the two trays and retreating to the other side of the kitchen.

A lovely boy? The last woman who'd lived here and called herself a 'mother' would never have said such a thing.

Black had been right about one thing he guessed; the Weasley genuinely seemed to be good people.

 

 

 

Mrs Weasley called her family down with the sound of a wooden spoon banging against an unused pot. Having never heard such a startling noise, never mind call to action, Sirius had leapt out of his seat and drawn his wand. Or rather, attempted to.

His foot had gotten caught around the table leg and sent him crashing to the floor; it'd been a piece of luck that his wand hadn't snapped like a twig. As it was, he was sure to be sporting some fine bruises on his knees tomorrow.

"Okay down there Mini-Marauder?"

Glaring up at the two gingers, Sirius rose to his feet with as much dignity as he could muster, smirking at the sight behind the duo. Before they could even start to ask why he was looking so smug, their mother latched onto an ear with each hand, dragging them to the table and insisting they 'not pick on that poor boy'.

Snickering under his breath, Sirius dropped into the seat beside the head of the table, which Black was quick to recline into. Lupin sat across from him up to the table, and for a moment, Sirius offered him a nod, before returning his eyes to the table spread and allowing a dreamy smile to overcome his features. Mrs Weasley was definitely allowed to stay.

"Hey mate, didn't get a chance to speak to you earlier," the lanky, ginger haired boy across the table began, offering his hand and a sheepish grin, "the names Ron Weasley. And this is my little sister, Ginny."

Beside Sirius, the little redhead let out a startled breath, scowling at Ron before blushing furiously.

"I can introduce myself Ronald!"

Shaking Ron's hand, Sirius twisted in his seat to grin at Ginny Weasley, taking her appearance in with the eyes of a man who'd looked at every female within his age bracket at least once.

"Nice to meet you Miss Weasley," he laid a kiss on the back of her hand, like every uppity pureblood gesture his parents taught him had dictated, "I'm Sirius Regulus Black. The Fourth," he snapped out quickly before Black could correct him, sending the man a glare over his shoulder for good measure. He laughed, and then spluttered as the goblet spat his drink back at him.

Seemed he'd forgotten after all.

Ginny stammered out a reply, but Sirius had already lost interest. She'd grow up pretty enough for sure, but he could already tell by her build she was the athletic type and still not too bold when it came to guys. She'd be fun to tease for a while, but Sirius was looking for something a bit more. Fourth year had been experiment year, he'd had dates with one girl from every house at the very least. He had standards now, and little Ginny Weasley wasn't cutting it just quite yet.

Then again, who knew what she'd grow up to be like? He'd keep an eye on her for certain.

"Now you wouldn't be flirting with little Gin-Gin, would you?"

"George!"

Laughing as the girl turned her righteous sisterly fury upon her brother, Sirius made himself comfortable in his seat, watching the people around him as they interacted with one another. They were so friendly, so full of life. And there was no many of them. It wasn't quite the Potter dinners, would never be anything close to the Potter dinners, where  formality and familiarity both came together as one.

This, this was just warm. He couldn’t think of any other word to describe it.

Swallowing thickly with a suddenly dry throat, Sirius reached for a cut of beef.

Hopefully, Mrs Weasley's cooking was as good as it smelled.

 

 

 

It wasn't until the dessert was severed, a delicious double chocolate toffee cake, the likes of which Sirius has never actually tasted before in his life, that the important information hit.

"Right kids, time for bed." Mrs Weasley glanced over at her four children, who all gaped at her in a rather unattractive manner. Yeah, it wasn't difficult to tell that they were all siblings when something like this happened. For a moment, Sirius wondered if he and Regulus had ever pulled faces like this. He couldn’t see it.

Hell, he'd never have thought his brother looked anything like him, had he not seen the little brat pulling a charming smile over on his year mate just before the end of term. They shared the same smile, a crooked little thing that more than one girl had told him 'promised lots of dirty secrets'.

Trying not to snicker under his breath at that particular quote, Sirius blinked in surprise when Ginny rounded on him.

"Come on then Sirius."

"Er, I'm not going anywhere." No way no how. This was his home -sort of- and he damn well deserved to know what was going on.

Mrs Weasley floundered for a second before her head whipped over to look at Black, eyes narrowed and daring him to go against her judgement.

"Hey, he's m-my kid," Black snapped, almost choking over the words, but facing her down regardless, "and I think he should know a bit about what's going on."

"What?!"

"Upstairs!"

The Weasley children filed out of the room one by one, with Ron bringing up the rear. He paused, catching Sirius' eyes, as if waiting for a promise that the Black Heir would be informing him of all that he was going to hear. Ha, fat chance of that. There were only three people he'd share secrets with, and they weren't here with him.

"When's Harry coming?"

Perking up at the mention of the girl that was apparently James' daughter, Sirius swirled around to look at Black, only to find a tense jaw and anger in his eyes.

"Dumbledore said it's best to leave her till August."

"August?! But that's a month away! Those Dursleys hate her!"

"Out!"

With an enraged wave of Mrs Weasley's wand, Ron was banished from the kitchen, the door swinging shut behind him.

Sirius didn't care too much for that right now though, he could feel something swirling about in his stomach, something that tightened in his chest.

"What does he mean that they hate her?"

Black blinked, looking a bit taken aback by the question as his eyes flickered down to look at his clenching hands. Mrs Weasley made an angry noise in the back of her throat, getting up and coolly informing them that she was going to prepare the lounge for any members of the Order that'd arrive early.

Sirius didn't care. Because this situation was sounding strangely familiar. Beside Black, Lupin sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"It's only for a month, just to renew the blood protections, and we have a guard on her. Nothing will that could hurt her will get anywhere near Harry. She's safe."

Sirius didn't care if she was safe or not. Any child was suppose to be safe at their home, but one only needed to look at his own situation, at Walburga and Orion, to know that sometimes, safe wasn't always the case.

"I thought you said she saw someone die?! Shouldn’t someone be with her, can't you, I don't know, visit her?!" He knew what he'd have given to have James over just once in the summer holidays, and he hadn't even seen someone die in front of him. A fellow student at that.

A muscle ticking in Black's jaw was the only warning Sirius got before the man practically snarled at him, one his feet with his hands balled and face furious.

"You think I don't know that?! I'd have been over there in a second if the bloody Dementors weren't after me! She's safe there! No one can find her."

"Yeah, locked up for the summer with people you hate, I wonder how that feels!"

Snarling, Sirius shot to his feet, storming towards the kitchen door and kicking it open. An angry haze obscured his thoughts, mind running from him until it got to the point he was just a body containing nothing but righteous fury.

Fuck, Black should understand.

He'd been locked up with Walburga and Orion for summer, he of all people should know what it was like to have to spend summer with people that'd only hurt you.

Pulling open the front door, Sirius ran down the steps, sprinting to the edge of the street as fast as he could. He doubted the two older Marauders had thought for even a second he'd leave the house, so there was no way they'd catch up to him now; they'd have to just be getting out of their seat by the time the front door had slammed shut.

The night's cool air filled his lungs, cooling his throat and pushing Sirius further.

Digging through his pockets, the teenager pulled free his wand, holding in out before him and summoning the Knight Bus.

It arrived with a bang, and he could feel the two galleons he'd arrived in this world with jiggling about in his pocket. He'd carried everything he'd come to this world with in his pockets, and there was no way in hell he'd have put it down somewhere, only to return home without it. Even if the only thing he had on him where the few remaining splatballs, his wand and those two galleons.

"The Leaky," Sirius snapped as he hopped on board, ignoring the way the man spluttered at his abrupt boarding.

Having perched himself on the most stable looking window seat, Sirius had the perfect view of Lupin's shocked face before the bus blasted away.

 

 

 

It was near eleven O'clock at night when Sirius stumbled into the Leaky Cauldron. It was, thankfully, just as shabby looking as he remembered. There were only two witches mulling around, and Tom, the bartender, was clearly shutting up shop.

"Hey, wait, can I get a room for the night?"

Rummaging through his pockets, Sirius pulled out the galleon and the change he'd gotten off the night bus, putting on his best pitiful face.

"Will this be enough?"

Tom, the bartender who hadn't been nearly as bald as he was now back in Sirius' time, frowned at him, inspecting the coins and Sirius felt his heart sink.

"Shouldn't you be at home lad?"

Yes. He should be at home.

With James and Remus and Peter. Hell, even on the train back to London, with the heavy knowledge that the summer with his parents was looming, and only teasing Regulus would make it in any way bearable.

But he wasn't.

He was here in this crappy world where his older self wasn't standing up for James' daughter and just leaving her to wallow when there was actually someone there to get her out.

Black should know, he should have known what it was like. And he still wasn't doing anything.

Sirius' chest tightened again at the thought of having to go back to that Grimmauld Place that was actually worse than the one back home, because everything here was wrong, it'd all gone wrong and he had no idea how to fix it.

He didn't realize he was hyperventilating until Tom's hand came down on his shoulders, flinching away at the action. Tom must have read something in the movement, because his eyes sharpened and he nodded gravely.

"I'll give you room 9 kid. Just a galleon."

He didn't dare mention that the rate for a room was higher than that, instead gratefully handing over the coin and offering the man his most sincere thanks.

"Is everything okay lad?"

"I-"swallowing, Sirius brushed the few traitorous tears away that'd gathered at the corner of his eyes, "-I just can't go home right now. If someone comes looking, can you say I just passed through?"

Looking up hopefully at the man he was quickly learning to have a soft spot for children, Sirius gave another thankful nod when the man agreed, shooing him off upstairs to go and take refuge in whatever room he'd been given.

Sure he was probably going to get torn a new one in morning when he went back, and he would be going back, but right now, he just needed some time away, to get his head on straight.

And sort out the whirling storm that was his anger at Black and Lupin. Just leaving James daughter in a house where she was hated, it really made his blood boil.

Clenching his eyes shut, Sirius cast his thoughts back, trying desperately to remember anything he could about the girl.

Something to do with Voldemort -he'd stopped listening to most of the back-story when he'd heard they weren't going to be able to focus on his problems-, seeing a student die, she had guards on her…

Surrey?

Yeah, something to do with Surrey.

Well, if he was doing this whole running away thing, he was, at the very least, going to do it right. Even if only for one day.

Tomorrow, he would go and find this Harry Potter.

And he'd do what Black and Lupin wouldn’t.

 

He'd made sure she was okay.


	4. Birds of a Feather

There's a list.

It's the first thing he did upon getting the room. Okay, maybe he showered first, but then he made the list. Well, it sort of doubles as a plan of action, just in bullet point form. So he wouldn’t forget what he was going to do this morning.

And, as expected of the brilliant mind of Sirius Black, he'd thought up a plan of action so fabulous it won't fail him at all. He can kill two birds with one stone today, because in all honesty, he's pretty damn sure that Black and Lupin, killjoys that they are, will refuse to let him out of sight once he's back in that house.

Which means he needs to get as much done today as humanly possible.

Hence, the list.

First and foremost, he needed money. Never before had he been so thankful for the blood keys at Gringotts. Black wouldn’t be able to go in and personally lock him out, because he was an escaped convict. Which meant, with his Black blood, he'd be able to draw money out of the Black accounts. Get a little moneybag, and he was all set.

Then, there was step two; convert a hell of a lot of that cash into muggle money. He was going shopping, shopping for clothes that'd let him fit in, and really, he'd always wanted to spend good old Black money on muggle stuff. Yet again, two birds, one stone.

Once that was complete, he'd be on to step three. Which was to summon the Knight bus and casually ask if they'd ever picked someone up from the Surrey area in the past three or four years. If Harry had used the Knight Bus, they'd be able to drop him off nearby. If not, then it was a random drop off and it'd be time for him to practice the 'point me' spell.

After finding Harry, then they'd hit up the shops, because he needed an opinion of 'what was in' clothing-wise at the moment.

Ha, all the Marauders would end up so jealous of his future clothes when he got back to find them.

Snickering to himself under his breath, Sirius shot freshening charms at his rumpled clothes, smoothing them out and checking his face over one last time in the mirror. He looked every inch the Black, if one excused the wrinkles on his shirt. But hey, no one was perfect, right?

Grinning, the teenager took one last look out the window -sun already halfway through it's slow ascension of the sky- before spinning on heel and heading for the door.

Time to get started on the master plan.

 

 

 

Getting money was easy. Getting money changed was easier.

Catching the Knight Bus and then interrogating the man he'd almost barrelled over yesterday turned out to actually be the most difficult part.

"Surrey, Surrey," tapping at his lips with a quill, and just missing the zit that looked ready to erupt with pus, the conductor -who's name Sirius had failed to catch- stared down at Sirius with a frown on his face, "yeah, I reckon we stopped a while back. We can take choo, for a price."

Grimacing, Sirius dug into the money-pouched, attached to his belt and charmed against theft, and pulled out the required amount. It wasn't like it was particular expensive, but he'd only rode the bus once before back in his world, back when he'd needed to go to Diagon Alley to buy sweets and Walburga had locked him out of the floo. He'd gotten there, but he hadn't exactly been eager to do it all over again.

Dropping into the same seat he'd been on last night, Sirius ran a hand through his hair before giving up, pulling the hair tie off his wrist and whipping into up into a stubby little bun.

A short series of giggles broke him from his thoughts, Sirius' eyes danced up to land on the two females sat across the aisle from him.

When he made eye contact with one of the two twins -pretty girls of Indian descent- they giggled a bit more, blushing furiously when he'd dared to wink. Oh yeah, didn't matter what world he was in, he still had it.

"Magnolia Crescent, Surrey!"

Snapping to attention, Sirius shot to his feet, offering the twins one last glance and a cheeky grin as he left. He left the bus with the same graceless leaps he'd taken down Grimmauld Place's stairs, successfully managing to ignore the startling bang when the bus left behind him.

Rocking back on his heels, Sirius let his eyes roam the street, wincing slightly as he did so. This was perhaps the most boring looking place he'd ever been in. All the houses were the same! And they didn't even have any character about them, they were just, just, awful.

Shaking his head in an attempt to clear such thoughts from his head, Sirius stared distastefully up at the hot sun. Even going so far as to roll his sleeves up to the elbows before remembering he could in fact use magic now. Well, he assumed that was the case, considering he'd not been sent an angry owl by the Ministry.

Cooling charms it was.

Once that was done and it no longer felt like he was about to sweat out that delicious meal from last night, Sirius turned his attentions back to the objective. Wand in hand, he grinned, letting it lie flat across his palm.

"Point me, Harry Potter." It spluttered for a second, before whirling to the left, down the street.

Ah, progress.

 

 

 

It didn't take too long, luckily he'd been dropped off on a street that was a minute walk away from what appeared to be his destination. It got worse as he went on though. He'd thought the first few houses had no character, well they had nothing on what was before him. They were all the same. Like someone had just built one house and duplicated it over and over again. Like a Gemino charm.

Was it actually possible to copy houses?

Head cocked to a side as he stared at the house before him, Sirius gave a low shrug before bounding up the front path. His fist drummed against the wood of the door, sounding out the tune Remus would always end up whistling whenever he'd had a good day.

Taking a step back upon realizing just how close he'd got to the door, Sirius took a moment to admire his reflection in the highly polished brass '4' that was nailed to the wall beside the door, before the entrance swung open.

His first thought was that he'd certainly have never pictured her as Evans' sister. Evans was a redhead, with bright green eyes and she was pretty damn gorgeous. This woman was stick thin with a long neck, pale blonde hair and dry blue eyes. She was most certainly not 'pretty damn gorgeous' like her sister was. _Has been_.

Gritting his teeth, Sirius offered the woman his best smile, and tried not to be offended when she sneered at him. Walburga probably wouldn't appreciate that he saw so much of her in this muggle. Which is exactly why he's gonna think it anyway.

"Dudley's out." The woman sniffed, shrugging one of her shoulders as if he shouldn't be asking her for anything more than those two words.

"That's great, don’t care. I'm here for Harry."

Sirius actually jumped when the door slammed in his face.

Staring at the glossy brown paint, Sirius blinked twice, trying to register what had just happened. Had he actually just had the door slammed in his face?

"You're here for me?"

The curious, cautious voice drew Sirius' attention away from the front porch and towards, the rosebushes?

A head of dark haired was peeking out now, one he'd missed due to its strategic placement.

And Merlin be damned, Black and Lupin hadn't been lying when they said James' little girl had gotten Evans' eyes. He'd not have believed it, had he not seen him in person. The big glasses that sat on her nose only seemed to emphasize them.

Realizing he'd been staring at the female that'd literally popped up out of the bushes, Sirius barked out a laugh, swiping his hand across the back of his neck, even though the cooling charms meant no sweat would be collecting there.

"Sure am. The name's Sirius Regulus Black, the Fourth. I'm told my dad's your godfather?"

Harry stared.

Her bright green eyes were wide and mouth had popped open, just a little bit. It wasn't an expression he could have ever seen on James or Evans' face. He'd never managed to shock them speechless before though. Well, at least, not yet. If it was anything like this expression though, he had to make it one of his top priorities when he got back.

Harry was working her jaw now, spluttering, like she wasn't quite sure what she wanted to say. The slight bitter tinge that'd shone in her eyes when she'd caught sight of him was nowhere to be seen now, no doubt shocked clean right out of her.

"Well, wanna know a bit about what's going on or not?"

Holding out his hand, Sirius put on his most ridiculous grin, wiggling his eyebrows in synchrony with his fingers. The hesitant grin Harry gave him in return was all the invitation he needed.

"Great. Now lead me to the part, oh local one."

 

 

 

The park wasn't what he'd expected. He'd been picturing something like the stretch of green land that sat four or five streets down from Grimmauld. Not this place, with a swing and slide and roundabout? He'd heard about them, but as a result of having parents who sucked the fun out of everything, he'd never actually seen one.

A collection of twelve year olds had ran over to test of the swings, so Sirius led Harry over to the roundabout, dropping down onto it and getting a brief chuckle as he tried to picture Walburga's face should she ever witness this moment.

The paint was chipping under his fingers, flaking away with an ease that nothing in the Wizarding World would be allowed to have. The tiny fragments of bright red gathered beneath his short nails, looking unnervingly like fresh blood.

"So what's going on? Why won't anyone tell me anything? And why didn't Sirius tell me he had a son before?"

Glancing over at the girl, Sirius ran through his cover story one more time, wishing he'd thought to get a few more details. Awe hell, he'd just go with it. Flying by the seat of his pants was one of his most habitual skills after all.

"He didn't actually know about me until this summer. My mother died and Professor Dumbledore sorted it from there." Nothing but the truth. Walburga was dead here, and Dumbledore had sorted him out, making sure all the relevant paperwork for his background story was there in the Ministry. Not that the government knew what he was up to that was.

Sat across from him in truly awful clothes -he really, really hoped those baggy, worn things weren't the style right now- Harry looked at him from beneath her eyelashes, eyes shining slightly with understanding.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, she was a bitch." And she had been, Walburga that was. He felt a bit bad saying it about his fake mother here, but it'd be easier for him if he didn't have to pretend too much.

"She hated me for having my father's face." Also true.

"She was still your mom though."

Grunting, Sirius looked down at his feet, at the earth that was starting to look a little less blurry as the roundabout lost speed. Kicking against the ground to get them back in motion again, Sirius let out a breath and forced himself to focus.

"I'm staying with Black and Lupin now. The Weasleys are there too, and the Order or the Phoenix are hanging out there, but I don't know what they get up to. Mrs Weasleys pretty much banned the kids from the adult discussions."

Scrunching up his nose to show exactly what he thought of that, Sirius leant back against one of the metal handles of the roundabout, watching Harry's reaction. Her brows furrowed above her eyes, green eyes alight with genuine anger. Sirius understood. Getting left out by those you love, stuck having to live the summer with people you held no ounce of affection for- yeah, he understood.

"Urgh! Why do they get to stay with Sirius! He's my godfather! I'm the one that saw Voldemort come back last year! I shouldn't just be left here!"

Harry punched the metal they were sat on and Sirius hissed through his teeth. That looked like it'd hurt. But he understood. Sort of. Better than anyone else did, clearly.

"I agree. I'm the only one that agrees apparently, and I can't just take you back. They'd rip me a new one and probably ship you right back here."

Scowling, Sirius folded his arms across his chest, pulling one leg up so he could rest his chin on his knee. Harry growled slightly under her breath, fists clenched and looking away. Scanning the park.

It was only as she was doing that action that Sirius remembered there was someone guarding Harry. Which meant there was someone who'd noticed where he was. The only reason they'd not popped up and snatched him away was because they probably didn't want Harry to know they were there.

Which meant, as long as he didn't point the guard out to Harry, he got to spend more time on the outside if he stuck with her.

"What's Voldemort doing? Why haven't I heard anything yet? I thought lots of deaths would be on the muggle news." She grimaced at the blasé tone, but continued to make her point regardless.

"I don't know, Black said something about him lying low but I wasn't really in the mood to listen. Sorry."

Shrugging and not really making that big of a show that he was actually apologetic -which he wasn't. Okay, maybe just a little bit- Sirius watched the pale girl sigh. There were dark bags under her eyes, seemingly cutting away at her cheeks with their bold bruising.

"It's okay. At least you've bothered to tell me something, and you don't even know me."

 

They sat in silence for a bit, and Sirius took a moment to watch the carefree twelve year olds squabble over who got to the sit on the swing this time. Why couldn't his life have been that normal? Instead here he was, from an alternate dimension, sat across from a girl who'd witnessed the murder of a fellow student.

"Will you be going to Hogwarts next year?"

Harry's question brought his attention back to her, and he gave a sharp nod.

"Good. I'll need more friends. Certainly one that'll tell me a little more than 'stay safe'. Or my personal favourite, 'we can't tell you anything, sorry'."

Oh boy, someone was bitter. Not that he could really blame her.

"I get it, I was pretty much order to stay in the house. But you know what, fuck them. At least, for the day… Wanna go spend some of the House of Black's blood money on muggle clothes?"

Gesturing to the bag hanging from his belt, Sirius wiggled his eyebrows, looking over at Harry, who'd now straightened from her slump with a grin.

"On clothes?"

"Well I need some decent muggle gear, and no offence, but so do you."

They both took a moment to eye Harry's less than stellar clothing, and Sirius had a sinking suspicion that she was in hand-me-downs like him. Only, the actual kind of hand-me-downs that didn't have any magic making sure nothing decayed or lost its vibrancy.

Playing with the edges of his rolled shirtsleeves, Sirius shot Harry a coy look, waiting on her answer.

"Come on, let me take your mind off things for a day. We'll just be normal teenagers."

"Normal teenagers?" Harry repeated dully, one eyebrow higher than the other but the slightest spark of amusement in her eyes.

"Yep. A day of teenaged rebellion, generously funded by the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. Nothing like spending the money of blood purists on muggle crap."

She laughed.

Grinning to himself over such an achievement, Sirius leapt off the roundabout, landing steady on his feet and ignoring the way his head spun after going in circles so many times.

"So? Do I get my guide into muggle culture, or am I left to stumble through myself?"

Cocking his head back to look over at Harry, Sirius blatantly crossed his fingers, watching Harry take one last look around the park, like she was expecting someone, before she nodded.

"Don't want you shooting off any spells I guess."

"Damn right. Who're you looking for?"

The sun was hot on the back of his neck, even through the cooling charms he could feel the heat. Not really thinking about it, he flicked his wand at Harry with a second cooling charm, only able to half imagine how bad it had to be under all that fabric.

"My cousin. He'd normally have turned up to ruin things by now. How can you use magic outside of school?"

"Home schooled until now. Kinda difficult to learn when the Ministry sends you an owl every time you fire off a spell."

Or, that's what he figured. Some kids did get home schooled. If they had special permits or something, Sirius wasn’t sure.

Nor did he particularly care. He wouldn't have to worry about it now that he was enrolled in this world's Hogwarts, and when the time came, he'd be back in his world and things would be back to normal. He didn't need to find out about this kind of information really.

"Shops are this way then."


	5. Flying High

Muggle shops were strange. No floating tape measures, no clothes made to order. Instead, a multitude of the same top, the same jeans, in different sizes to try on.

And some of the styles! Sirius had never seen anything like it.

But he wanted. Oh, how he wanted.

Stood at the entrance to H&M, Sirius was pretty damn sure he just stared for a few minutes, eyes darting around the place, trying to take in all he wanted to try on. The little indoor promenade had a few clothing shops, and most importantly for Sirius and his growling stomach, it had a selection of small food shops. Bakeries and something Harry had called 'fast food' that smelled greasy and so muggle it left him wanting twelve of everything.

But that was for later, right now they were buying clothes. Clothes were important.

Approaching the leather jackets with wide eyes, Sirius pulled one down from the rails, running his fingers across the sleeves and grinning madly.

He was in love. This was exactly the kind of thing he wanted to be wearing.

"Harry, what would go with this?"

The green eyed girl paused, twisting back around to look at him after pushing her glasses back up her nose. He took a quick note of the top she'd been staring at.

"Skinny jeans?" Her answer was hesitant, pitched higher at the end like it was a question, but that was good enough for Sirius.

Stalking over to the display of jeans, he flicked through the various piles before pulling out a black pair that may or may not fit him. But there was a 'changing room' at the back of the store, so he'd try them on a bit later. No point in going in and out with a different outfit, might as well just take them all in.

"This is a shopping trip for both of us you know," Sirius whispered, elbowing the female gently in her ribs. Harry scowled, an expression made more fierce by the dark smudges beneath her eyes. It wiped clean though when she grinned, reaching up for a soft green blouse, her hand hesitating before she snatched up a summery skirt that may or may not match. Sirius wasn't sure, didn't pay much attention to how girl's threw an outfit together. He could appreciate it once it was on, however.

"Are you sure you want to use your money on me?" Harry asked quietly, her arms tightening around the clothes she held.

"As I said earlier, spending the Black money on muggle clothing is something I've only ever dreamed of."

His eye was instantly drawn by the sharp glitter of a tee-shirt covered in sparkles and Sirius had to forcibly still his hand.

No matter how pretty it looked right now, it would not look good on. He knew, he'd thrown glitter across all the Slytherins before. It wouldn't look good at all.

But it was so sparkly.

Shaking his head, Sirius turned his attention back to the bomber jacket on the wall, snatching one up that looked like it was a size or two too big for him. Lots of growing room.

A pair of awesome looking boots followed, with laces and two buckles on each side and far more stylish than any boots Orion had ever worn.

Merlin, muggle clothing was incredible. And so much choice.

Glancing over at Harry as he picked up another pair of jeans, Sirius paused, watching her watch the dress on the hanger.

"Does it jump out at you or something?" He asked, dropping his head onto her shoulder, blowing the mass of black hair back with a breath. Harry stilled under his touch, neck angling away from him and Sirius fought with himself to not be offended. She'd seen a fellow student die, of course she wasn't going to be alright with his touchy-feely ways.

"Is it going to bite?"

"Is what going to bite?"

"The dress of course. Can't see why you'd hesitate otherwise."

Stepping back, Sirius grinned as the girl scowled at him, but never the less all but tore the dress down from the railing. Her pile of clothing was almost pitiful when he compared it to his own, so Sirius made it his mission for the next twenty minutes to tail her around the store, pushing her into picking up the things that actually caught her attention, snarking back and forth with the girl when she'd dared to suggest that he was only interested in the women's section because they had better jeans.

"Of course, they have a better selection on this side, do you know how good my legs would look in these?" Sirius snapped, lifting up a pair of dark denim jeans and waving them in front of Harry's face.

She snatched the offending item up and gathered it into her growing pile, but he was pretty sure his own grin was almost cracking his face. Much like Harry's was.

"Should we go try this all on now? Because if I try carrying anymore my arms are gonna snap."

Snorting at the imagery, Sirius took a step out of the girl's way, giving a short bow and nearly toppling over when he underestimated the weight of the clothing in his arms. Harry snorted though, so really, it was mission success so far. Just for the giggles, he snatched up a dress while he was following her.

Harry's obvious struggle to draw breath around her laughter was worth the blatant staring of the changing room assistant.

 

 

 

Having quickly changed into a new set of clothing in the promenade toilets, Sirius stuffed one hand into the pocket of his shorts and grinned. Finally, summer clothes. No more cooling charms, finally he'd be able to enjoy the warmth of the sun and not have to worry about passing out from overheating.

Shrinking three of his bags and stuffing them into the final one, Sirius strolled out of the bathroom, taking a quick look around before making his way over to Harry. She too had gotten changed into the dress he'd teased her about biting, and now had the flower crown on that he'd thrown into the purchases as a joke.

Two boys actually walked past and smiled at her, but from the startled look on Harry's face, she wasn't used to attracting that kind of attention. She was pretty enough, and without the awful hand-me-downs, people could actually see that now.

"You're wearing a flower crown too?" Harry asked, disbelief on her face as Sirius laughed.

"Well I'm not gonna let you have all the fun."

He knew they were girly things. But judging from the look on Harry's face when she'd seen them, she'd never have dared to buy one for herself, never mind actually wear it. And hey, if she thought he looked ridiculous enough in the one he was sporting, then she obviously wouldn't care about wearing on herself.

"You're just jealous I wear it better than you," Sirius griped, holding his hands out for Harry's shopping bags. She frowned, looking between his single bag and the four she was currently stuck with, before she grudgingly handed two over.

"I'll shrink 'em when no one's looking," Sirius muttered, only half paying attention when that greasy scent once again demanded his focus.

"McDonalds?" Harry asked after a moment, her eyes having followed his to the little restaurant with a giant, golden 'M' stuck over the front door.

"Is it any good?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Well," Sirius shifted the bags in his hands, striding forwards and grinning back at Harry as she startled after him, "only one way to find out."

 

 

 

McDonalds was greasy and salty and it was so damningly muggle that Sirius fell in love with it on first bite. Harry, who'd gotten a chicken burger instead of the magnificent Big Mac XL that Sirius had gotten upon noticing it was the biggest thing on the menu -go big or go home- was watching him with something close to amusement. He was about to ask what was so funny, until he bit into something he most certainly did not want.

"Ack! Gherkins!"

Spitting the offending food piece in question from his mouth and into a napkin, Sirius peeled back the top of the bun, picking out the foul creations. The muffled giggles had him pausing though, looking up and watching as Harry laughed at him.

The artificial light from above was reflecting off her glasses, mouth surrounded by a peppering of salt particles, until she raised a hand to cover her laughter. There was a ketchup stain on her ring finger, crumbs from the burger's bread bordering her nails.

"Having fun?" Sirius snarked, folding his arms and trying on his best judgemental frown.

Harry grinned, taking another bite of her burger and chewing thoughtfully, before she swallowed the mouthful.

"I am. It's nice to just… Be normal for a day. Just Harry."

Giving his burger another once over to make sure it was free of the horrid gherkins, Sirius returning to his self appointed task of finishing off his entire meal before Harry managed to get through her own burger. Because he might be able to get away with flinching some fries off her if he didn't have any of his own left.

"Best enjoy it while we can; they'd probably lock my door with a permanent sticking charm when I get back. They might even not let me surface for Hogwarts as it is."

"You're really in trouble?"

Harry stuffed a French-fry into her mouth just as Sirius finished off the last bite of his burger and made grabby motions towards Harry's meal. She huffed, but pushed a few fries his way regardless.

"Yep," Sirius said, popping the 'p' and stuffing the fries Harry had surrendered into his mouth, "but it was so worth it. This stuff is great, I've got cool new clothes and the company…" He paused, shrugging with a nonchalant look on his face, "well the company I could put up with."

Harry kicked him in the shin. Not hard, but enough to know she apparently disapproved.

Grinning at the girl, Sirius snatched the last mouthful of her burger from between her fingers and ate it before she could recover. Well, the chicken wasn't bad, per say, but certainly his Big Mac had been the best choice.

"Oi!"

Shrinking all but one of Harry's bags down and stashing them into the remaining one, Sirius shot to his feet with his hands full and a table between him and the offended party.

"Come on, let's not ruin the rest of the day with unnecessary violence."

"I'll show you unnecessary violence."

 

 

 

The sun was starting to dip low in the sky by the time they'd finished.

By some act of god, Sirius had managed to talk Harry into having their tea at Burger King, and though the burgers had tasted heavenly, it didn't mean the two of them weren't feeling just a little bit sick now.

Though, that could be to do with the ginormous pick n' mix of muggle sweets Sirius had bought them. And then decided that they absolutely had to finish them before Harry got back to the Dursleys because her cousin would certainly steal anything that was left.

So it was with rebelling stomach and aching feet that they arrived back on Privet Drive, Sirius carrying only two bags, which were incidentally, full of lots of smaller bags. One with his stuff in, one with Harry's. He would of course, need to unshrink all of them, but then he'd be leaving Harry with twenty or so bags to lug into her house which was totally unacceptable.

Which meant he was now going to be getting his first tour of a muggle house. Harry warned him it was much worse on the inside than it was out, but Sirius honestly couldn't picture it being so bad.

And then he stepped inside.

Grimacing at the wallpaper, the decorations, the multitude of muggle pictures of this muggle family, Sirius kicked off his shoes near the door as Harry did, offering her a quiet thanks as Harry plucked them up. Apparently it was best not to leave them where the muggles could get to them.

"Come on," Harry whispered, creeping up the stairs with a silent, speedy efficiency that Sirius desperately needed to learn. Seeing as there was no James with an invisibility cloak in this dimension, sneaking around was going to be a hell of a lot harder.

Unless of course, Harry had the cloak now. Maybe?

His socks were a great aid in climbing the stairs quietly, but every creak his feet coaxed from the stairs made Sirius cringe, especially as Harry had scampered up at twice the speed with no noise whatsoever.

Regardless, they managed to get to the top of the stairs and down the hallway without any muggle suddenly popping up out of nowhere, and Sirius got himself his first look at a girls room.

It was plain, with a simple, cheap set of dressers and draws, a worn looking bed and the hand-me-downs thrown out across the floor. Harry stood in the centre of the mess, a blush dusting across her cheeks as she tried to subtly kick a bra to the hidden safety beneath her bed. She failed, and Sirius got an eyeful of red.

His favourite colour.

Trying not to snicker too much over her embarrassment, Sirius began pulling Harry's shopping out, throwing each enlarged bag one after the other onto her bed, Harry squeaking as the occasional item bounced free.

"Well, that was fun, but unless your relatives are gonna let me bunk over, I guess it's time to go and face the music."

The snort from Harry told him exactly how likely that was to happen, but she was nice enough to offer him something from her meagre supply of biscuits.

Taking only the one, Sirius scarfed it back, then regretted it as his stomach went about reminding him just how much he'd eaten already.

"That was a bad idea," he moaned, half hunched over and holding his stomach and Harry laughed. It was tired, but still a laugh. So it seemed his work here was done.

Straightening up and trying not to show the pain on his face when his stomach once again rebelled, Sirius offered the dark haired girl a shaky grin.

"Can I write to you?"

"Sure. I'll need someone to talk to when they lock me up."

 

 

 

Surprisingly enough, Harry's guard didn't immediately apprehend him the second he stepped out the door. He managed to even make his way down to the first street, just out of her sight, before a hand clamped down on his shoulder with alarming force.

Being sucked through a straw not a second later was expected, but that didn't mean it was in any way pleasant.

Gasping from the sudden apperation, Sirius dropped to his knees in the drawing room of the House of Black, sucking in greedy gulps of air. His bag of shopping had dropped behind him, but he'd not been stupid enough to let go of it. They might try to take it from him and hell no, those were his muggle goodies.

"What the hell were you thinking!"

Two hands fisted themselves in his shirt and Sirius found himself hefted to his feet, looking up to find Lupin's golden gaze staring down at him. Black was prowling the room, back and forth, and actually snarled at the woman that came over to talk to him. Had to be the guard that'd brought him back then.

Sticking his hand into his pockets, Sirius drew the contents out, slapping the strip of paper in Lupin's face.

"That's what I was thinking."

The werewolf reared back, an instinct he'd honed on whenever someone got their hands too close to his mouth. Sirius had really hoped he'd have dropped that habit as an adult, but clearly that wasn't the case here.

Lupin let go of him in order to peel the offending paper off his face, but then stopped when he took in what was actually on it.

Stepping to the man's side as Black mirrored him on Lupin's left, Sirius got another glance at the four pictures he'd managed to talk Harry into taking with him.

Some silly thing called a 'photo-booth', nothing like the cameras that Sirius knew were used in the wizarding world. Still, he and Harry had squeezed onto that tiny chair in the little enclosure, offering two smiles for the camera.

Where Sirius' had been a giant, beaming grin, Harry had just offered a grim little grimace. The second photo was when Sirius caught what she was doing, and started tickling her. The third was him taking an elbow to the face.

The fourth was him in mid-tackle, arms half wrapped around Harry's waist and the both of them grinning like loons.

"I was thinking she looks a hell of a lot happier with that smile on her face." Sirius grumbled, stubbornly folding his arms across his chest and ignoring the way the plastic handles of the bag cut into his wrist.

"What in Merlin's name is on your head?"

Hand shooting up to his hair, Sirius cringed slightly.

Oh, he'd forgotten about the flower crown. No wonder everyone had been staring at him funny on the walk to Privet Drive.

Tch, oh well.

Harry'd enjoyed her day and he'd gotten out of Grimmauld Place for a bit. If that meant sitting through the incoming lecture -and there would be a lecture, he could see Lupin gearing up for a verbal smack down- the he would take one for the team, so to speak.

He'd gotten a day out, some clothes of his own, some stuff of interest that'd caught his eye, and learnt what the muggle girls in the photos in his room were sitting on.

Motorbikes.

He wanted one.

He really, really wanted one.

So cool.

So loud.

So pretty looking.

Glancing at Lupin's face, Sirius cringed when he realized the man had noticed he wasn't paying attention. Great, lecture time, round two. Urgh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone interested, these are the little notes I have for Sirius and Harry in this fic;  
>  **Sirius;** is built of teenaged rebellion and midnight, he's leather and warm fire pits, cold toes and hot hands. He's moody eyes and dirty-secret smiles. He's half curled hair and sparkling grey eyes. He's the bundle of stars wrapped up in Black.  
>  **Harry;** is built of unwavering bravery and twilight, she's spider silk and stormy seas, compressed love and quick temper. She's golden heart and diamond resolve. She's messy haired madness and explosive green eyes. She's every hero woven into one.


	6. Burning Wax

He was grounded. Not that he hadn't been before. But now there was actually a monitoring charm on the flower crown -which Black had stuck to his head, the traitor- that he couldn't get off.

He couldn't even get within five feet of the front door before an alarm of some kind would go off, and Black or Lupin would turn up and give him a lecture on responsibility -Lupin- or just frown and grumble -Black- that he really didn't want to bother with.

Which left him here, sprawled out on the couch in the drawing room and waiting for the Weasleys to wake up.

It was day two of Sirius lockdown, and he was really starting to hate this place. Oh, Grimmauld Place back home, he hated that too. But this parallel house held a special place in his little black heart. He agreed with clearing out of all the dark objects and curses and creatures that had taken up residency here.

He did not agree with him being forced into doing such a thing. It should be a team of bloody curse-breakers handling this house, not four teenaged wizards and one witch. True they had Mrs Weasley to help, but she wasn't exactly and expert on the things in this house that could kill you.

He wasn't even allowed to use his magic either. The first time he'd done so, Mrs Weasley had hit the roof -figuratively, though a spell to bring about such a result was probably worth looking into- and banned him from performing any wand work.

Not that Sirius really listened to her. His wand wasn't registered with this Ministry, he was quite content with charming his bedroom door locked when he didn't want any interruptions.

Like now.

There was a lovely looking white owl perched on the railings outside his window, gently tapping her beak against the worn glass. Amber eyes focused on him and Sirius knew in his bones that this owl was bringing a letter to him.

Shooting up, the Gryffindor crossed the room in an instant, cringing at the squeal of protest the windows gave when he pushed them open. The owl was quick to offer up the letter, gliding effortlessly into the room and nesting down atop the four posters of his bed. ' _Sirius IV_ ' was scrawled across the front, not in handwriting he recognised, but really, there was only one person outside of this house that would be writing to him.

And it certainly wasn't Dumbledore.

Tearing the top off of the letter, Sirius carefully slid the parchment from inside out, flicking it open with more care than he'd given anything for the past few days.

 

' _Sirius,_

_I'm sorry it took so long to write, Hedwig -my owl- was delivering a letter to Hermione -she's a Gryffindor, my friend- and she only just came back. I'll send her out with this letter as soon as I'm finished writing it, so hopefully Hedwig will reach you sometime in the morning._

_Thank you, for telling me what was going on. Hermione and Ron keep telling me they can't say anything, that Dumbledore said it was best they keep quiet, and even Sirius- oh, I mean, your dad, says I should keep my head down. What is going on? What are they all up to? Ron wrote like he was with Padfoot right now. Is he? Are you in the same place? Is there any news on Voldemort? What are the Order of the Phoenix up to?_

_I wanted to say thanks for coming to spend the day with me. I know you probably got it loads of trouble for it, but it's been the highlight of my summer so far, probably the best day that I've spent living at the Dursleys since I started Hogwarts. I appreciate it._

_Harry_ '

 

 

Scowling, Sirius stretched on the bed, dropping the letter onto the side table.

Merlin, it was like reading one of his own letters to James from over the summer. Constantly asking questions. How were Peter and Remus -because Walburga was against him contacting halfbloods- how was a summer free of worries -because hell if he didn't always end up stepping out of line with Orion- and most importantly of all, what were the Marauders up to over summer. Because Sirius needed to live vicariously through them.

Shooting up on the bed, Sirius snatched up his own piece of parchment, rummaging through the draws of the cabinet until he came away with a quill and ink pot. It took a few tries to crack the lid open, sticky from disuse as it was, but soon enough he had everything he needed.

 

' _Harry,_

_Honestly, I was just glad to get your letter, I've ran out of hiding places from Mrs Weasley -she's determined to get me to help clean. Clean!- that aren't already infested with some dark creature or another. Or Kreacher himself. The little bastard. Can't tell if he hates me or Black more. Don't particularly feel like trying to figure it out in all honesty._

_I don't know about this 'Hermione', but Ron can't tell you much of anything because his mother keeps banning him and the others from the meetings. I haven't tried sneaking in myself yet, but give it some time and I'll worm my way in. Or get some form of information somehow. I'll let you know when I do, us Marauder legacies have to stick together after all. No news on Voldemort, though there's loads of people passing through these past few days; I gather they're to do with the Order, but I'm not 100% on that. I need to investigate a bit more. I'll keep badgering them to bring you here; you keep sending them letters and we'll hit them from both fronts. They'll wear down eventually._

_And I bloody well enjoyed that day out in Muggle-Land. I'd probably have made a right tit of myself if I'd gone on my own. Your friends should have come with you, but as they're the loser that buckle to authority, then I guess your gonna have to live out your rebellious stage with your truly. That is, if you think you can handle this much awesome acting as your friend._

_Love and kisses,_

_Sirius IV_

_P.S. I hope you know I can no longer remove the flower crown from my head; the pains I've gone through for you, my dear._ '

 

 

Not too sure if the letter came off in the appropriately jokey tone or not, Sirius shrugged his shoulders and folded the parchment up. It was damn well good enough for him.

It only took a few seconds of searching to find an empty envelope, and even if it did have a few freckles of coffee covering the back side, then hey-ho. At least it'd smell good.

Quickly scribbling down ' _To The Lovely Lady Harry_ ', Sirius twisted off his bed, planting both hands on his hips and staring up at the beautiful snowy white owl.

"So, you wanna take my letter to Harry, seeing as it's so much more helpful than any other she's gonna be getting?"

The bird seemed to appraise him for a second, before giving an almost regal tilt of her head and swooping down to snatch up his correspondence.

Sirius watched her gracefully glide right out the window, flying down the street, and a deep longing to join her welled up inside his chest.

 If only he could leave Grimmauld Place so easily.

 

 

 

 

It was nearing one O'clock in the afternoon when the next big event of the day happened.

Sirius had been in the ensuite of his room at the time, admiring the elegantly tasteful stubble that'd taken to decorating his jawline. It'd only just started showing up in the past three months. But damn, if he trimmed it just right it looked good. Still, Mrs Weasley had frowned at dinner when he'd shown up with it, so shaving charm it was.

The second his skin had once again become silky smooth, the front door opened, then slammed shut as someone arrived, waking Walburga's portrait in the process.

From somewhere within the house, Sirius heard Black howl in displeasure, no doubt racing towards the entrance hall to do battle with the angry portrait.

So all in all, it appeared their afternoon would be off to a good start.

Stretching his arms above his head, Sirius rolled them about in their sockets. Time to go and see who'd rocked up for a stay at Chez La Grim.

Pulling open his bedroom door, Sirius paused before snatching up one of the tee-shirts he'd still yet to fully unpack from his shopping bags. Trampling down the stairs, Sirius continued his struggle with the shirt, realizing when he'd gotten halfway down to the ground floor that the reason he wasn't making any headway was because what he'd thought was a head-hole was actually an arm-hole.

A grunt of triumph escaped his lips when finally he managed to get all his limbs into the correct openings, offering Ginny a flirt wink at her blatant stare. The girl blush bright red and retreated back into whatever room she'd been assigned, but not before taking one last look as he went about rolling the rest of the fabric down his chest.

Hitting the stairs at a half jog, Sirius stumbled as his socks once again slipped on the wooden steps. The recently polished wooden steps. Somewhere, maybe upstairs, maybe in the hall, he heard Kreacher cackle, and he just knew that damn elf had only polished the stairs with the hopes he'd end up slipping on them.

Bloody thing was probably hoping he'd split his head open.

Snarling under his breath, Sirius righted himself, head tilted upwards in that pureblood pounce gesture, that suggested to everyone watching that nothing had happened, certainly not something potentially embarrassing.

Muffled voices were coming from the drawing room, and Sirius strolled forwards, pushing open the door and slipping inside.

All four heads turned to look at him, and Sirius took a moment to give Black and Lupin the customary glare of the hour -a tradition started since he'd been put under official house arrest- before offering Ron a single glance before turning his sights to the only person he didn't know.

She was a mess of bushy hair, soft brown eyes peeking out from beneath it all in a face that would be quite pretty if she put the effort in. He didn't recognise any family traits in her though, so that left one obvious answer. Muggleborn.

Oh, Walburga must be rolling over in her grave, knowing a muggleborn had stepped foot into Grimmauld Place. And judging by the trunk sat behind her, she was planning to stay too.

Most excellent.

"Sirius, this is Hermione Granger. Hermione, this is Sirius, Padfoot's son."

Sirius accepted the hand she stuck out to him, planting a kiss on her knuckles and grinning roguishly when she blushed right to the strands of her wild hair.

"Nice to meet you, Hermione. You don't mind if I call you Hermione, right?"

"No, it's alright. Your tee-shirt's on backwards." Sirius paused, looking down at the offending article of clothing and finding that she was indeed right on that account.

"So it is. Want to help me take it off?"

She squeaked again, Black and Lupin laughing while Ron turned that fascinating shade of Weasley red.

Unbothered, Sirius wiggled his arms free of the cotton tee, spinning it around on his neck and pulling it back down his torso. Then, with a deep self-loathing but unable to find a reason to put it off any sooner, Sirius turned to his older self.

"You said you'd help me with the Grimm thing."

Black blinked, eyes narrowing before they lit up with understanding.

"Ah, yes. Come Mini-me, we'll handle that. Remus! Tell Molly we're having a study day, no interruptions. Snacks would be appreciated."

Sirius managed to shoot off one last wink at Hermione Granger before he was dragged from the room. If the way she acted was any indication, then clearly the boys had Hogwarts had no idea on how to actually treat girls.

Looked like he'd be schooling the males of this dimension until he got to go home.

Before that though, he needed to sit down with Ron and Hermione and see why they weren't keeping Harry in the loop. Baby steps, baby step.

 

 

 

Sirius had been closer to a full transformation than he'd first thought.

Of course, getting your older self to help you through the steps apparently made it a hell of a lot quicker. Black said he'd worked out his transformation during the summer of his fourth year, and really, by getting his help Sirius had only cut about two weeks off.

Still, there was something incredibly satisfying to be able to run about in the body of a dog, listening to his nails click against the wood of the floor, his tail thump against the dust riddled furniture. The house smelt so different through the nose of a dog. Padfoot trotted along beside him, bigger and bulkier in his adulthood than Sirius found his form to be.

Grimm.

He was Grimm the Grimm. How novel.

Sirius had to turn back after a few minutes in that form, magic still straining from having transformed fully for the first time. But he'd done it. He was an Animagus.

Brilliant.

Flexing his arms, now intimately aware of the shifting of his muscles, of the density of his bones and the fine little tendons that held it all together, Sirius shot his older self a grin.

"Okay, you're forgiven."

"Tch, just a shame the crown didn't carry over."

Placing one hand protectively atop the flower crown that sat upon his head, Sirius frowned, taking a step back and out of Black's reach.

"I'm growing fond of it, all the other idiots will be wanting one soon."

Black snorted, throwing open the door to what had once been Orion's old study, the both of them stepping out and heading down for dinner.

As he went, Sirius marvelled over how much time had passed, how much of the day he'd spent going over the Animagus transformation with Black. It'd been very helpful, clearly, but still. He'd enjoyed himself enough to not even have enough time to think over the fact that this wasn't his world.

Still, he'd get back, and he couldn't wait to brag about this entire adventure to the rest of the Marauders. And show off his Animagus form. Speaking of-

"Hey, now that I can do this, that means I can come with when Lupin has his monthly, right? It'd be good practice for when I get back."

Black offered him that pained grimaced -the one he and Lupin adopted whenever Sirius spoke of going back to his own world, the one he didn't want to look too much into- before giving a slow nod.

"Makes sense I guess. Now come on, Molly'll have dinner ready by now."

Grinning, Sirius bounded out of the door, transforming midway. Not quite able to recover his sense of balance, the shaggy black dog slammed into a wall, shaking his head in an attempt to recalibrate to this body.

It only took a few seconds before he was bouncing down the stairs, dancing between the startled Weasley twins and almost tripping Lupin in his dash to the kitchen.

A bark from the upper stairs let him know that Black had transformed too, no doubt stunning everyone who hadn't known just what they'd been up to all day.

After all, it wasn't everyday a fifteen year old became a fully-fledge Animagus.


	7. Flying Beneath The Sun

 

 

His way out of the house was, predictably, found where he'd have least expected it. Of course, it didn't occur to him to even attempt that particular route, not until ten days of house arrest had dragged by.

Sirius had been making his way from the kitchen to the hallway, when he'd heard the successive 'thump-thump-thump' of someone taking a tumble down the stairs.

Unsurprisingly, Black was laid out at the bottom of the staircase, limbs crumpled in beneath his body from where he'd attempted to catch himself. Walburga had snapped to alertness, snarling and screaming. But Sirius had been a little more interested in the reason Black had tripped down the stairs.

Quite obviously from the gleam to the wood, the stairs had been hit with a polishing charm, just as Black had been making his way down the stairs in his socks. He didn't need to hear the cackle to know the source.

Kreacher had 'cleaned' the stairs just in time to try and injure his master. The creepy little bugger.

Scowling, Sirius had scanned the landings, even going so far as to dart up the stairs in hopes of catching the little bastard while Black once again engaged in a tug of war with Walburga's curtains. He'd been led on a merry chase throughout the house, but eventually, he'd managed to corner Kreacher in one of the dusty, unused bedrooms.

They had both frozen in place when Sirius had slammed the door shut, staring at each other.

Chest heaving, Sirius had known that Kreacher could pop away the second he wanted to, but the little bugger was curious. He wanted to know why Master's bastard son had chased him down instead of just calling him, that much was obvious.

Hands clenched into fists, Sirius took a deep breath before slowly letting it escape between his lips.

"You could get me out of the house, couldn't you." Sirius watched Kreacher's wrinkled brow dropped over his eyes, no doubt trying to figure out just what Master's bastard son was plotting. Which was fine by Sirius. He knew how to spin this now, knew how to get just what he wanted.

All thanks to Black.

"Black wants to keep me in this house, but I want to go out for the day. He hasn't ordered you to keep me here, has he?"

There was another moment of stillness, as Kreacher eyed his muggle clothes in a new, disgusted light.

 No."

"And it'd really piss Black off if I got out for the day, even though he's got a tracking charm on the flowers," Sirius gestured to the flower crown on his head. He could see the exact moment that Kreacher caught on to what he was doing, because with a flick of his fingers, the flower crown didn't feel like it was stuck to his skull any longer.

Sirius didn't even get a moment to celebrate though, because the little bastard snapped his fingers again and then, suddenly, he was on his rear on the pavement outside.

Grumbling, Sirius straightened up, pulling his wand out and summoning up the Knight Bus. It wouldn't be long until they noticed he was missing, and like hell he was going to be sticking around for them to come and find him. Shooting up the steps of the bus, Sirius dug a galleon from his hip pouch and slammed it into the conductors hands.

"Little Whinging, Surrey."

 

 

 

Nothing appeared to have changed since his last visit. It was still as monotone, as muggle, as could be. And it was still as blisteringly hot.

Grimacing, Sirius adjusted the collar of his shirt, rolling his shoulders and feeling infinitely glad he'd put on the 'swimming' shorts he'd bought from the muggle shops. They came to rest just at his knees, an obnoxiously bright red with white flower patterns across them. Thrown on a pair of 'flip-flops' -god he loved that name, what a name for footwear- and a white shirt, and he was ready for the summer heat. If Harry was, well, he'd soon find out.

It took him a bit longer to get to Privet Drive, given that the Knight Bus had dropped him off in the centre of town. Regardless, he made it while the sun was still climbing into the sky, and honestly, it couldn't be much earlier than ten O'clock.

Walking down the street, Sirius paused by the house number eleven, offering to help the middle-aged woman carry her grocery shopping from the car to the house. A lot of it looked quite heavy, and the poor women did have a pot on her arm. She did look suspicious at first, but had thanked him profoundly once he was done. With her hair a soft chestnut brown and her eyes a calm blue, she seemed just like any regular witch, only, you know, she was actually a muggle.

"Thank you very much for your help…"

"Sirius. Parents were big astronomy fans. Means I've got ample opportunity for puns though." He grinned, accepting the bar of chocolate the woman insisted on giving him in exchange for helping.

"Have your family moved to Surrey, Sirius?"

"Nope," popping the 'p' of the word, Sirius rocked back on his heels, a pleased smile spreading across his face, "I'm here to see my friend Harry. She lives here. We go to the same boarding school in Scotland." Or well, they would be.

Offering the nice woman of Number Eleven a wave, Sirius strolled down the drive, making his way over to Number Four without any hassle whatsoever. He could feel the eyes of the woman on him, but he had no idea why, so went about ignoring it.

Bounding up to the front door of Number Four, the teen took a moment to brush a strand of hair back from his face before enthusiastically drumming his fist against the wood of the door. There was a loud swear from the other side -clearly he'd startled someone- before the door swung open and Sirius came face to face with the fattest muggle he'd seen yet.

And that moustache.

Sirius felt his lips curl in disgust at the awful facial hair, before forcefully shaking his head to rid himself of the expression before it gave too much away.

"Here for Dudley are we?" The man grunted, and Sirius found himself trying not to laugh once again, because hey, this was the second time it was assumed he was here for the muggle boy.

"Nope. I'm here to take Harry out."

There was a moment of still silence, before the quick, almost feather light thumps against carpet could be heard and Harry's face appeared behind her uncle.

Who was slowly turning red. And shouting at him.

"Now you listen here! We don't want any of your kind here! Go-"

The business end of Sirius' wand stopped the rant midway through. Harry's aunt, who'd appeared in the hallway when the uncle started shouting, let out a terrified squeak.

Instead of addressing the duo though, Sirius just turned to Harry and grinned.

"Go get something on to go swimming in, we're off to the beach."

 

 

 

No doubt whoever was on Harry watching duty would be following them. Or informing the Order Sirius had managed to slip free of Grimmauld Place again. But right now, Sirius didn't care at all.

Harry had changed quickly, and was now sporting a bikini top, denim shorts and flip-flops not unlike his own. A bag rested on her lap, which she held close to her chest. Unsurprising with the way that the Knight Bus moved. If she let go of that, it'd probably knock out three people before either of them could get hold of it again.

"So, surprise?" Sirius finally offered, grinning at the girl who just smiled back, shaking her head in blatant disbelief.

"A little warning would have been nice."

"Yeah well, an opportunity presented itself, and it was a 'now or never' kind of moment."

Harry's mouth quirked up at the corners, coming dangerously close to splitting the healing scab on her lower lip. She'd clearly been biting the lip, it was the same thing Evans did.

Had done.

Will do, when he gets back.

James, on the other hand, liked running his hand through his hair. If Sirius himself had any nervous habits, he was, at this moment in time, unaware of them.

"So, where are we going?" Harry asked, going to press her face against the window glass, but clearly thinking better of it.

Not a second to late, because the bus took a sharp turn that almost slammed her head into the side. Sirius himself almost ended up tumbling right out of his seat, squawking as he did so.

"To the sunniest beach in Britain. No idea which one it is though," Sirius explained when the bus finally levelled out.

Harry chuckled as he cautiously adjusted his position from one of safety to comfort, hands still with a white knuckled grip on the upholstery.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, the Knight Bus twisting across England at insane rates, dropping off all the witches and wizards that had boarded before them.

"So… What kind of natural disaster do you think you'd be?"

Harry's head snapped around to look at him, eyebrow raised in disbelief.

"What?"

"Yeah, come on, think about it."

Digging his elbow into Harry's ribs, Sirius offered her a cocky grin, wiggling his eyebrows about until the brunette let out a begrudging laugh. The roll of her eyes was fond though.

"A hurricane," Harry finally murmured, running her fingers across her eyes and offering him a nervous smile. Well, it wasn’t exactly the kind of question you get asked every day.

Still, there wasn’t any wrong kind of answer. He could kind of see the girl as a hurricane though, what with all the mayhem going on around her right now. Yet, she was quiet in comparison, the calm eye of the storm. A lull in activity around her, though things would pick up, like high speed winds.

"You?"

"Tsunami."

"Not a volcano?"

That'd been his first thought too. But, when they weren't erupting, volcanoes were so quiet, they didn't really do much. Sure, it was a big, fiery explosion, but it didn't happen often really.

A tsunami on the other hand-

"Yep, the sea's always moving, there's always some waves and some motion going on, but when it comes to the big tsunami, there's the slightest warning when the water draws out, a short chance to get away, but then, bam! Big wave washing over everything and sweeping up everything in its path."

Snickering to himself, Sirius cocked his head to a side, taking in Harry's curiously amused face.

"That or a plague of locus."

"What?"

"Yep. So absurd that I catch your attention, hold it, annoy the hell out of you, and I'm damn hard to get rid of."

Harry laughed, a delighted smile on her face and Sirius grinned back, tugging on a strand of long black hair and then swearing violently when the Knight Bus swerved and sent the both of them rolling into the isle.

He was going to get his arse kicked by every last member of Dumbledore's stupid Order when he got back.

But right now, untangling his limbs from the knot he'd been tied into with Harry, groaning over the pain in his nose and laughing at Harry's scowl, was the happiest he'd been since stumbling into this nightmare.

 

Any bollocking he got was going to be worth it really.


End file.
